Epilogue
by super manako sohma
Summary: Sequel to Fade. A lot goes through Kenny's mind as he waits for Kyle at Stark's Pond. But what happens when Kyle doesn't show up?


Mana here. Due to popular demand, here is a second installment to Fade. Actually, I was debating whether to write a sequel because I felt I kind of left it hanging back there. But here you go, and thanks for the folks who encouraged me. This piece you'll find a bit longer than the last. It took me a while to write this, but I'm satisfied with the result. Oh, by the way I've come up with quite a bit of ideas for oneshots and started on some of them. And because a quarter of my blood runs German, it bothers me to not finish what I start, so I'm afraid you won't be seeing too much of Ice Warm for a while. But mind you, it's still going on. In the mean time, I highly recommend you enjoy this.

Epilogue

Kenny sat on a rock at Stark's Pond, overlooking its glossy waters. He ran a pale hand through the water, yet no ripples were created. He knew, though, that it was cold. It was October, which means that it's only a matter of days before the pond would freeze over. White-gray clouds loomed overhead, threatening rain. Every now and then, he'd look over to the entrance of the clearing to the pond to see when that familiar ushanka-clad red head would show up. He couldn't wait to see Kyle again.

He remembered that day when Kyle had to leave. The skies were overcast and he had been strolling in the direction of the Broflovski house, to see if Kyle would play with him. But as usual, he was always the last one to know things.

He remembered seeing Stan holding Kyle in his arms on the sidewalk in front of the Broflovski house. Kyle gripped onto the black haired boy tightly, tears streaming down his red face. Stan, on the other hand, was trying his hardest to keep his tears inside.

"You can't leave, dude," Stan croaked, "you're my best f-f-friend."

Kenny's ears perked up. Kyle was leaving? Since when? And why hadn't he heard about it? His mind focused away from the internal questions and to the two best friends in front of him. It broke his heart to see one of his friends cry like that, particularly Kyle. He had always like Kyle out of the three. He treated him the best and seemed to care about him. Each time he died, Kyle would always call out "those bastards" who supposedly killed him, as if cursing out in vengeance. It made him feel good. But upon seeing the scene in front of him, Kenny kept himself hidden behind a tree; this was obviously a best friend thing, a thing he wasn't a part of.

"It's ok Stanley, he's coming back," Randy patted his son.

"Aww but that's gonna take forever!"

"S-Stan, you should write a song about curing breast cancer, and maybe mom will get better and I can come back faster," Kyle smiled through tears.

Both boys laughed, recalling a memory about the last time Kyle had to leave.

"Alright Kyle, ready?" Gerald prodded him on the back, gently pulling him away from Stan. He gave one last look at Stan and Randy and retreated to Gerald's Hybrid.

The car sped away and Randy had disappeared in the direction towards the Marsh home. Stan however stayed outside and decided to go for a walk. Now that Stan was alone, this gave Kenny a chance to come out from his hiding spot and greet him.

"Hey," Kenny said, grinning awkwardly.

Stan smiled back at him, though sadness was evident in his eyes. He waited for Stan to say something, but no words came out. Kenny didn't force him to speak, for that would be rude. But although he kept quiet, he had a feeling he wanted to go to Stark's Pond. They walked together in silence, though Stan tried his best to put a smile on for Kenny. Once they arrived, Kenny picked a spot near the water to sit. They stayed there for some time, still keeping silent. Stan had zoned out, staring vaguely at the trees and then back down at the water. Kenny never had much in his life, and the friends he had weren't exactly that close to him. He didn't know the pain Stan felt losing Kyle, but considering the raven's solemn expression, he could only infer that it hurt a pretty great deal.

"Kyle's gone, you know?" Stan said finally. It was a crisp tone, very short and very quiet.

"Yeah. I kinda saw." Kenny tapped the tip of his shoe in the water, creating little ripples. "You miss him?"

In that instant, Stan took Kenny by the shoulder and buried his face in his chest. This left Kenny at a little bit of a shock; he always figured he'd be the last person whom Stan would cry to. But he didn't discourage the moment. He wrapped his arms around the black haired boy, cuddling him close.

"It's ok," he whispered, but that didn't stop Stan's tears form flowing. Stan poured out all this thoughts to the blonde, as if he had been bottling up his feelings once that car drove away. Kenny felt pity for the boy, but could do nothing but console him. The two stayed like that for a long time, until it got dark and Stan had to go back home.

"Hey, thanks for listening to me back there," Stan nudged Kenny once they were in front of the Marsh residence. "I know I kinda broke down out of nowhere, but it really helps having you there with me."

Kenny forced the blood flow in the opposite direction of his face. Stan told him he likes having him around.

"I'm just a few blocks away, in case you need a quick cuddle," he said, winking.

"I'll pretend that doesn't mean what I think it means," Stan smiled, "well good night Kenny. See you tomorrow."

Kenny smiled at the memory. That was one of the first times Stan had been close to him. He always pictured Stan as the "cool guy," the football player whom everyone liked. From then on he and Stan had grown a little closer, but only so much.

He looked over to the entrance of the pond; still no Kyle. He sighed…Kyle would come soon enough, he hoped. He took the time to observe the rest of the pond, or what it had been turned to. In the old days, the area was always filled with small children playing tag or football or just sitting around and talking. And in the winter time, the children took advantage of the frozen lake, playing skating games and having fun.

But no, not anymore. With special permission from the mayor, Rancher Bill had bought the area as a place to grow his livestock. He persuaded the mayor with free beef and something else that Kenny had a vague idea of. He chuckled to himself…the things people will do for land. He gazed to the right of him; there were at least sixteen cows, fenced off from the lake. He glared at the cows, but held no animosity toward them. They were just cows, after all. Then when he spotted the goddamn rancher sitting on the porch of the small farm house, a low growl erupted in his throat. He hated that rancher; his plaid red shirt, his faded Levi's, his spurred boots, but most of all, that rifle. The rifle that ended his life.

He remembered that day. It was freshman year and the bell rang, dismissing the students from their classes. Kenny was walking casually alone. Ever since Kyle left, the group had somewhat disbanded. They were all still very tight with each other, but they just didn't hang out quite as often. And once they hit high school, everyone's been sort of going their own way. Stan and Cartman had made it to the football team (Cartman had taken up football in middle school, turning all this fat into muscle and making him look quite handsome). A lot of the other guys, like Craig, Token and Clyde and taken up sports as well. Tweek had gotten a part time job at the family coffee shop and Butters couldn't afford to do any activities, because if his grades slipped, he'd be grounded for sure.

Kenny sighed; he had no means to participate in any extra curricular activities because he couldn't afford them. At least that's the excuse he gave his friends and recruiters who asked him to join a particular club or sport. Each day he'd be going home alone to do whatever. Sometimes he'd go home with Butters if Butters didn't have any urgent homework he had to attend to. Today however was not one of those days.

"Hey dude," Stan caught up with him once they were outside. He was alone, no Cartman or Wendy in his vicinity. Kenny flashed him a million dollar smile.

"Yo," he said, "no football?"

"The season's over dude, where've you been?" Stan smacked him playfully.

"Ay! How was I supposed to know?"

"It's cool, we had our final game last Friday so you probably missed it."

"Friday?" Kenny gasped, "crap I was at a party that night! Aww and that was the game me and Butters were supposed to go to, I'm sorry!"

"Don't feel bad," Stan patted him, "I'm doing soccer in spring, so that should give you another chance to see me kick ass."

Kenny felt a sense of warmth when Stan's hand made contact with his back. He'd always seen Stan patting Kyle's back when they were younger, but never him.

"Mom called, got a package from Kyle," he said, and Kenny's eyes widened instantly. A package was always good. A package from _Kyle_, however, was special.

"Sweet dude, what did he send you?"

"I don't know, but I'm guessing it's candy," Stan said with a smile. "If you come over we can split it."

"Nah, it's cool. It's your love package from Kyle, might as well enjoy it," he teased.

Stan closed his eyes for a second, trying interpret Kenny's words into something more favorable. When could not, he smacked him upside the head, leaving him chuckling with self satisfied laughter.

"Sorry, sorry," Kenny said.

"But dude, come over still. Kyle tells me he's sending a picture of himself he took in his backyard."

"Sweet! I wanna see how much he's changed."

"He's actually been looking pretty good," Stan said smugly, "if I was a chick I'd be all over him."

"Oh my, Stanley," Kenny fake gasped.

"Alright, enough now. Are you coming over or what?"

"I'll be there. I'm just gonna take a walk over to the Pond for a little while."

"You're always over there, Kenny. You want me to come with you?"

"Nah, I'll be fine. You go on and help your mother prepare supper, I'm expecting a fucking feast."

"Kenny…"

Kenny smiled.

"Just kidding. I'll be there soon, ok?"

Hanging out at Stark's Pond was something Kenny did on a daily basis when he wasn't hanging out Butters. He liked the pond a lot. It was one of his favorite thinking places, yet he did more observing than thinking. Younger children frolicked in the forest, playing child games as Kenny and his friends did when they were younger. Kenny observed the children, trying to picture their futures. Would they remain friends forever? Would they be torn apart? He did not like to think too deeply about that for it would remind him of his own misery. No, not misery. He just felt things would have been more solid within his group if Kyle had stayed.

As he neared the pond, he began to get a slightly eerie feeling. There weren't as many children about. But he shrugged it off; there would be lots of benefits to himself. Without the laughter and playing of children, he'd have more time to just enjoy the pond's true beauty. It was a lovely piece of land, he'd come to realize. He reached his favorite place near the pond, a rock looming over the water. He liked that rock; it made him feel like a mermaid when he'd sit next to the water, overlooking the scenery. Sometimes, the little girls would stare in wonder as he lay sexily on the rock, pretending to tan. And it stroked his ego a bit, so he liked that.

But just as he was about to sit down the hairs on his neck stood still. A bang was heard, followed by a sharp pain underneath his left shoulder blade. He collapsed atop his rock, fallen dead.

For a while everything became blank. The authorities had come by to examine the shooting, and discovered that it was the doing of Rancher Bill. He had been known throughout South Park to shoot trespassers to his ranch on site, and now that Stark's Pond was his property, he was entitled to shoot anybody that so threatened his livestock. He had been pardoned.

Kenny's funeral went as usual; just a simple procession at the back of the church. Everyone who usually attended the McCormick boy's funerals all came, except for Kyle for obvious reasons.

After that event everything continued normally. The sun shone the next day and the man on the TV went about announcing the weather. No one cared for Kenny's deaths, because, well, he usually comes back. Nothing to worry about at all. But Kenny's deaths were things that weren't exactly predictable. He would stay dead for longer periods of times than most, yet no one would question why. However, Kenny himself felt that he would not come back any time soon.

A few days after the incident, Stan was lying on his bed, doing his math homework. It was evening, and he had just told his parents that he'd be retiring to his room for the night. Then the phone on his desk rang and he stood up to answer it.

"Hello?" Stan asked through the receiver.

"Hey, Stan," said that familiar voice.

"Kyle!" Stan looked over to his digital clock reading 8:45 pm. "Dude isn't it like ten where you're at?"

"Yeah, but I finished my chores early so my aunt said it's ok to talk to you."

"Nice! So how are you?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," he waved with his hand, "school, helping around the house, hanging out with Kyle. Oh, did you get the package I sent you?"

"Sure did! Thanks so much, I'll send you one soon."

"Great, so how is it over there?"

"Mm, same old. Kenny died again, haha."

Kyle chuckled.

"Poor guy. Send him flowers from me," he joked.

--

It was now evening and Kyle still did not show up to the pond. Eventually Kenny gave up on gazing at the entrance. He stood up from his rock, overlooking the area. Rancher Bill was still in his porch with that rifle in his hand. Kenny glided over to him and stood before him. Moments before he felt hate toward the man, the man who ended his life. But as he further examined him, he began to feel pity. The poor man had been paranoid throughout his life, so it was only natural he would have shot Kenny without asking questions. That day, he was simply doing his job to defend his livestock. Could anyone blame him?

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the rancher. He didn't hear him, but that was ok.

Then Kenny left Stark's Pond and wandered aimlessly into the city. Rain began to pour in buckets from the sky, and Kenny pulled up his hood instinctively. He knew he wouldn't get wet, but it was done out of habit. It was dark out, and the citizens of South Park were tucked away in their nice warm houses, preparing for sleep. Eventually Kenny found himself in front of the Broflovski residence. He let himself inside, casually slipping through the wall. He found himself in the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski were sitting and watching TV by the roaring fireplace.

"Did you just feel a draft, Gerald?" Sheila asked, bringing her coat closer to her. Kenny felt her looking straight at him, but she could not see him.

"Kinda," Gerald replied, standing up, "let me turn up the fireplace."

Kenny smirked playfully at the couple; at least his presence was noticeable. Then he glided up the staircase, to the bedrooms. Ike's bedroom door was slightly ajar and Kenny peeked in, out of curiosity. The boy of twelve years old was asleep in his bed, no longer a crib as he remembered. He smiled at the sight and turned around at the familiar door that belonged to Kyle's bedroom. He entered and spotted the red head inside the comforts of his bed and felt a jolt of pain. Kyle looked so peaceful in his sheets, so happy in sleep and content. He was going to kill _him_, the embodiment of everything is pure and kind. When Kyle left South Park, Kenny became lonely. Kyle was always nice to him, and would show him a little attention and a little is better than nothing. When Kenny died, he felt even more alone because no one could feel, see or hear him. Kyle was not present during the time of Kenny's death, and when he came back, Kenny became happy. Stan told Kyle three years ago that Kenny died, but he assumed he came back. But he did not, and Kyle didn't know that. When Kyle saw him on his bed the day he returned, he greeted him as if he were still alive. This made Kenny very happy, knowing that Kyle could see him. But then he figured out that once Kyle got back in touch with everyone in South Park, he'd eventually find out that Kenny had died at what he had been talking to was only an apparition. He would be freaked out and would never want to talk to him again. To prevent this, Kenny came to the conclusion that if he wanted Kyle to stay friends with him, he would have to kill him, and they would be together forever. But as he gazed upon the sleeping Jew now, he felt sorry for him. He looked so happy that day they spent together. If he had killed him, would he still have that smile? No, he would hate Kenny for doing that to him, just for his own happiness.

Kenny gently ran a hand over the red head's curls, feeling how warm and soft they were between his fingers. Kyle gave a quick shiver and Kenny remembered how cold he must have felt to him. He withdrew his hand immediately, but that didn't stop Kyle from opening his eyes. The boy shifted in his sheets, obviously half asleep. He wouldn't have smiled at the blonde if he were awake and fully conscious.

"Mmm, Kenny?" He asked, sleep still evident in his voice. Kenny smiled when Kyle didn't show fear towards him.

"Hey," he whispered.

Kyle's eyes opened a little more. "You're dead."

Crap, he already found out he was dead. Kenny didn't know whether Kyle would be angry with him or not, so he just said, "I am."

"Sorry I wasn't there for you."

Kenny bit back tears that would never fall. After all he's done, trying to kill Kyle, he's still apologizing to him?

"It's fine. You were a million miles away at the time."

"I wasn't that far away."

Kenny reached for Kyle's hand and squeezed it.

"You're still pretty cold," Kyle said.

Kenny stayed silent, enjoying Kyle's warmth so close to him. He finally took a seat on Kyle's bed, causing Kyle to scoot over. Kenny didn't go any further into his bed, but he kept his hold on his hand.

"You didn't come today," he said.

"Oh," Kyle laughed uneasily, "sorry about that."

Kenny felt a sharp pain in his heart at his words.

"Don't apologize," he said, running his other hand through Kyle's hair. "Why didn't you come?"

Kyle took a deep breath.

"My mom told me you were dead so I kinda freaked out and stayed here."

Kenny stayed silent. So it was his mother who told him he was dead. He knew she would, and of course, he knew of Kyle's reaction.

"Are you mad?"

Kenny turned to face Kyle, who now looked a little more awake. His green eyes shone through the darkness. Kenny shook his head.

"That was a mean trick you did," Kyle said in a low whisper, "you wanted to kill me."

"I wanted to," Kenny croaked, "I really missed you and I just wanted to be around you again."

"But you were around me all of yesterday. Were you not happy?"

Kenny shook his head slowly.

"I was scared you'd find out about me being dead and would want to hang out with me anymore."

"You think I would care about that? I had fun hanging out with you, dude."

Kenny blinked at Kyle's words. He told him he didn't care if he was dead. He looked at Kyle again and lowered himself to his bed, taking the Jew in his arms.

"I'm sorry," Kenny whispered.

Kyle moved slowly and put his arms around Kenny's back.

"Kenny, I'm curious," Kyle said softly, "why didn't you come back like you usually do?"

Kenny shrugged.

"I don't know. I've tried to, but I'm just…dead. Rancher Bill shot me and I just…died."

"…you bastards," Kyle mumbled into Kenny's chest.

Upon hearing this, Kenny laughed out loud. How he missed hearing this. Kyle laughed a little as well.

"When do you think you're going to come back to life again?"

"Sometime soon," Kenny said with laughter still in his voice, "I can feel it."

"You can?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"Well see, the other times I tried coming back to life, it just didn't feel right. It felt like something was stopping me, like one thing was missing."

Kyle smiled back at him.

"So is that 'thing' back?"

"Sure is."

Kenny took Kyle into his chest once again and held him for a few minutes longer. He stopped when Kyle shivered at his cold aura.

"Get to sleep," Kenny said, rising from Kyle's bed, "you have your first day of school tomorrow."

Kyle looked at his clock; it read 11:30. Kenny lifted Kyle and placed him in the center of his bed, where he'd first seen him when he entered that night. He tucked the Jew into his sheets and covers and placed a gentle good-night kiss on his forehead.

"Are you gonna be there tomorrow?" Kyle asked.

Kenny shook his head.

"Soon," he said, "but just get to sleep now. You have a long day ahead."

Just as Kenny was about to melt into the walls, he paused.

"Oh, and Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"Give Stan a hug from me tomorrow," he said with a blush evident in his voice.

He didn't stick around to hear Kyle's response for he was already outside the home. The storm had been reduced to a light drizzle, but the streets still shone with rain. Kenny stood under the radiating light of a lamp post, debating where to go next. Ultimately he decided on going home, just to see his family again because believe it or not, he did grow rather fond of their obnoxious alcoholic behavior. Taking one last look at the single familiar window of the olive-green house, he stepped out of the light and disappeared into the mist.

XX

Yep…that took me while. But I'm proud of it. Haha, and like my other works, I do not know whether to call this slash or friendship, but that's where you decide :)


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